


Ultralife

by thegingermidget



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Afterlife, Could be read as thor/loki, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Loki goes to Valhalla, Norse Afterlife not Marvel, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), but doesn't have to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegingermidget/pseuds/thegingermidget
Summary: Loki comes into his afterlife gasping and disoriented. As he expected, he has to face everything he has done in life in his death. What Loki did not expect was having to talk about his greatest failings with his greatest enemy, his father, Odin.





	Ultralife

His hands touch his throat and it sends a shock through him even before he takes a breath. Breath immediately follows, a gasp for life, a sensation only known at birth. He opens his eyes next and blinks, unseeing. Through his fingers, he can feel his throat expand and contract, breathing rapidly, deeply, as though any one of them could truly be his last.

But they’re not. He’s already taken and wasted his last breath.

So why is he here?

Now he starts to see and he recognizes the place where he stands. He’s been here recently. The gray sky stretches before him out over a restless ocean. He’s not sure why he’s here now, more confusion to add to the strange state he’s in.

“I’m surprised to find you here,” says a voice, one Loki recognizes. It would be impossible for him not to. He hears this voice in dreams. Sometimes, he hears it when he is awake and it speaks to him from a memory. He has grown to hate this voice, violently, and slowly that hatred has dulled over years. It doesn’t cut him as sharply as it once might have. The voice is a blunt knife, harder to cut with, but it can easily wound if the wielder is not careful. “But I am not unhappy.”

Loki doesn’t turn to acknowledge the speaker. His knees give way beneath him as his mind struggles to adjust. He feels torn apart, his essence divided. He has felt this way for some time now and that has never meant good things for him. Magic works best when the user is in harmony with themselves and the world around them. It requires certainty of person and purpose, one of the reasons Loki has always found the strength of his powers to be constantly in flux.

Here, he is divided: murderer, savior, lover, villain, son, man.

“I am as surprised as you are,” says Loki. He can feel the vibrations of his vocal cords beneath his fingers. His hand still rests there, less disbelieving now and more as a reassurance. “But I can’t speak to happiness just yet.”

“It can be difficult to adjust to at first, this life after death, but you’ll adapt,” So he is dead. He was beginning to suspect as much. There were so few other explanations that could have lead him here, to this conversation. He has faked his death twice before, but it only takes once for the real thing to stick. “Adapting to new circumstances was always a great skill of yours, my son.”

He opens his mouth for a moment, debating whether or not to contest him on that epithet. He has only heard Odin call him that twice before, in his final moments. This must be the same Odin, then, the one who spent a few years practicing self-actualization in Norway before deciding it was time to die. This is the Odin who has followed him into the afterlife.

“If I am where I think I am, I’m not sure how I came to be in this place and not… elsewhere.” Surely if some higher power were to consider the whole of his life and everything he has ever done, considered the total sum of whether his existence caused greater or lesser happiness in the universe… if anyone had done the calculus he would not be here.

“Then you are lucky you have this version of an afterlife and not one that is more discerning,” His voice is even and omniscient. He has hardly ever spoken to Loki this way. “I did not choose to bring you here, my son, your actions have brought you to Valhalla.”

Odin continues to confirm his suspicions. He is dead. He is in Valhalla. Now unfortunately, he has no more intuitions to prove or disprove as to what is to happen to him next. He has never died before.

“I should not be here.”

“You want to deny the most genuine and noble act you have ever performed? Sacrificing your life to save your brother’s?” Odin is starting to raise his voice. The sound of it is instantly familiar to him, far more than the calmness he had been affecting before. Part of him wants to goad Odin into shouting. _Rage, father. Shout me down as you did when I was a child._

“I didn’t do it for-”

“Of course you did.” The stormy skies around them seem to suggest thunder at the sound of Odin’s booming voice. Loki has known this father too well for too long to ever be afraid of this voice again. “You have changed, my adaptable son, become something more than any of us could have expected, save Frigga, perhaps. She believed there was good in you even when you chose to hide that goodness from the world.”

Loki stopped listening when Odin mentioned Frigga. He had no right to talk about what he meant to her or what she meant to him. He could never have any idea. Then, the thought, one he had had several times since he had lost his mother, occurred to him. Whenever it seemed that all hope was lost, he reminded himself that at least he would be reunited with his mother who loved him in death. He stood and turned to face his father for the first time since arriving in Valhalla. “Where is she?”

“Frigga?” 

Was Odin playing him for a fool? “Of course Frigga. She’s here is she not? Valhalla is for those who died bravely in combat and if anyone deserves kindness in the next life it’s-”

“She is here,” Odin says. It seems in this new peace between them, they will both choose to ignore the parts of each other that they dislike. Loki will ignore his father’s sanctimonious preaching, the way he believes he knows everything there is about the world and what is best for it. Odin, in turn, will ignore his son’s tendency to jump to conclusions. They will both ignore the anger that still boils beneath the surface at times. It’s for the best.

“Then why am I still speaking to you? You resented my existence while we were alive. I should hate to think you’ve become sentimental in death.” He feels like his words may have at last landed a blow. 

Odin, as always, does not appear affected by his words in the least. Nothing he has ever done has seemed to have had any real effect on his father, positive or negative. The most he could ever get from the man was a few words bellowed down at him from on high but never a thought spared for him beyond that. “Perhaps you need to gain a sense of peace before you are able to pass on, our relationship has always been contentious.”

He says this as if he isn’t the singular master of this afterlife, in control over all of it. “I don’t see why death should change that.” Loki takes a breath and turns away from his father, looking out at the cliff and the water before it begins to remind him of that day with Thor and his father here on these cliffs and thinks better of it. “I do not hate you anymore. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, you have always been a master of lies, even when telling them to yourself. I do not care that you hate me still, perhaps you are right to.”

This makes Loki angrier than anything else Odin has said up to this point. It reminds him of being on Sakaar when Thor had finally told him exactly what he wanted to hear and Loki realized that it wasn’t what he’d ever wanted at all. He didn’t want an apology from Odin, retribution for years of being lied to and made to feel small. Though, in this realization unlike that day on Sakaar, Loki has no idea what he really wants from his father.

“So what is there for me now? Do I join the Einherjar and wait for Ragnarok? How does that work now that we put an end to that little prophecy?”

He wants to stab something when Odin has the nerve to laugh at him. “Changing the subject? I would have thought you would find such an obvious tactic of manipulation to be beneath you. Have I cut too close to the truth?”

Loki tries to school himself back into that strange truce he had found himself in before. The mask that let him talk to his father like the man he wanted to be when he faced his father again and not the boy he had been when he had left home. Had Odin come too close to the truth? Not exactly, but Loki wasn’t about to open himself up to Odin. That wasn’t the way they did things in their family.

“Regardless of my feelings toward you in the past, there is nothing that says I need to endure you in the future. I’ve cut you out my thoughts completely. Are you truly so desperate for forgiveness that you cannot see that?”

“I see a boy whose father has failed him, a boy trying to become a man his father will be proud of.”

This time it is Loki who shouts. “I don’t give a damn what you think of me!” His hair flies into his face. “Everything I am now, I am in spite of you. Don’t you dare try to take responsibility for what I am.”

Odin is unflinching in the face of his rage. “And what are you, my son?”

“Stop calling me that!” He cannot listen to Odin call him son in that voice one more time. Before his father had died, the phrase had been a small shock, an unwanted inheritance Odin was trying to give to him with his last breaths. Now it rings false and makes his flesh crawl.

“Is that not what you named yourself? Mere moments before you died?” It sounds like Odin is playing with him, asking rhetorical questions of him. He knows, obviously, exactly what he said before Thanos squeezed life from him. “Loki, Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, Odinson…”

“I didn’t say that for you.”

“No, you said it for Thor.” He had, and if anything Odin has said now is near the truth, this is closest to the mark. “Do you deny it?”

Odin expects a lie. Loki hates being predictable and chooses to spite him. “Of course, I said it for Thor.”

“Why?” 

The fire that fueled his anger before has died. All that is left is an emptiness it has taken minutes to process. “Because we are closer than blood. He is all that I have. Thanos would not have let the two of us live. That’s not how he operates.”

“You do not deny your sacrifice.” Odin seems almost surprised by his answer.

“When it came time to make a choice, I could not watch him die.” 

He feels an unfamiliar sting in his eyes and realizes he might be on the verge of tears. It has been years since he has let himself feel anything this deeply. Trust Thor to bring out this sort of hateful sentiment in him. The last time he cried had been in front of his father as well. His greatest moment of weakness could always be found in front of the man he wanted to be strongest for. That was before though, before he had gotten rid of Odin and freed himself from his father’s expectations. 

“It warms my heart to hear of such love between my sons.” 

Loki has never been a fighter, but he feels an impulse that must be familiar to Thor, an impulse to hit the nearest source of irritation, in this case, his father. “I’ve always loved Thor.”

“I know. Your jealousy, your anger, they can only come from a place of love.” Odin sits down on the edge of the cliff, just as he had before he died. He looks out over the water and seems at home. “I’m proud of you, Loki, for this most of all.”

He has no need for his father’s pride, not anymore. He can’t help but feel something good though, despite himself. Perhaps from the realization that he has grown. Everything he has told himself for the last few years is no longer denial, but the truth. Then, Loki recognizes the feeling. He had first felt it as a young boy when Frigga had first started teaching him magic. His connection to nature and the universe that comes from knowing who he is, truly, is strengthened by this realization. It feels a bit like the breaths he has so recently taken, the ones that meant life.

Loki sits down beside Odin, not too close, a safe, comfortable distance for both of them. 

“You died a valiant death and for that, you have been chosen to live in Valhalla, but you were right,” He pauses as if he knows that was something Loki had never thought he would hear him say. “Asgard is gone, Ragnarok has come and passed, and the Einherjar have moved on to a place beyond my reach.”

Loki turns to look at him. “Then why am I here? If I am dead, why haven’t I passed beyond as well?”

“You have a choice to make. To be candid, I am not sure what you will choose.”

The smallest spark of intuition lights in his mind. He has some idea where this might be headed. He’s hopeful, but as he always aims to be, cautious.

“How did I get here?” Loki asks quietly. He has a genuine curiosity to know the answer. “It was said that the Valkyrie ferried heroic souls from the battlefield to Valhalla.” He has met a Valkyrie now and while he is not sure what became of her in the attack, he is sure that she didn’t take him here.

“You always had an affinity for history. When the Valkyrie were lost, Frigga help craft a spell, a prayer, the one you know to help guide souls to Valhalla. Someone must have said a prayer for you.”

Someone. Three guesses who. 

“What choice am I to make now?” asks Loki. Choices seem to be luxuries of the living. Why should he have one now?

“The Einherjar feasted in the halls of Valhalla until Ragnarok, the end of days. They were warriors, agents of Asgard, meant to serve at my command when the time came. Ragnarok is over, so now I give you the choice to serve at my command.”

As always, Loki finds he has trouble with the concept of obeying orders that are not his own. “I am afraid my answer depends on the command.”

“The universe finds itself facing a threat on a scale it has never known. Thanos aims to erase half of all beings in existence and your brother, Thor, is on the front lines. This will be an even larger, more catastrophic fight than Ragnarok and I want my last Einherjar to assist in the fight. The living and the dead fighting side by side for the fate of the universe.”

Loki nods. This is a lot to swallow. He had suspected something like this. He has known what Thanos wants for some time now, but Thanos has never been this close to getting what he wants. Being dead, he should be free of responsibility, free of fear. None of this should matter to him anymore. 

And yet, Odin is offering him a second chance at life should he choose to take it. While the afterlife has forced him to confront his greatest enemy, even if it were to continue like this it might be easier than the task Odin has set before him. Help Thor defeat Thanos and save the universe? The simplicity of the mission belies its difficulty.

Odin gives him a while to decide, leaving them with the sound of the ocean beneath them and the wind whipping the grass around them. Perhaps the afterlife would be like this wind and water, whispering ‘hush’ as they jointly try to soothe him into peace. How dreadfully dull that sounds.

“I’ll do it,” says Loki. Was there ever really another choice? He has always been adaptable, yes, and part of that skill is being a consummate survivor. And it is very hard to survive when one is dead. Besides, there seems to be very little left for him to lose now that he has lost his life. Perhaps he’ll go back just to see the look on Thor’s face when he realizes he’s alive again. Loki shakes himself of the last thought, it hadn’t been very much fun the last time. 

Odin nods, his face unreadable. Loki cannot decide if he looks pleased. Odin stands before him, looking like a king again and not the tired old man he had been on Midgard. 

“Your king commands you, Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the Rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, to walk among the living once more, to fight beside Thor and protect the people of the universe from terrible danger.”

Odin is issuing him a formal command and his acceptance will make him duty bound to carry out his will. There is something in the wording of it that makes Loki smile, but he will deal with that later. He knows there are far more pressing things to worry about in his near future, let alone what might happen if he survives this mess.

“I will,” answers Loki, kneeling in front of Odin. His father places a hand on his shoulder, touching Loki for the first time since he has entered his afterlife. 

“Protect Thor, protect the people of Asgard, and put an end to Thanos. Your skills in magic should be a valuable asset.”

Loki flexes his hands experimentally. He feels more in tune with his magic than he has in ages.

“I will,” repeats Loki and he means it. He finds himself itching for another go at Thanos, at life. Perhaps it will be better this time. Perhaps he can make it better.

“Good luck,” Odin says before Loki disappears again. “You shall meet your mother again when this is all over.”

The thought is tempting, the idea that Loki will go off and join the fight only to return when it’s all over to a quiet afterlife and a reunion with his mother whom he still loves. The idea is not tempting enough for Loki to consider it for long, though. No, Loki will carry out the command his father swore him to, but Loki plans to outlive Thanos for as long as he can. He isn’t going back to Valhalla without a fight this time.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for the MCU! I hope no one minds that I'm more familiar with Norse mythology than Marvel canon when it comes to what happens in the Asgardian afterlife. I came out of Infinity War with all of these feelings for Loki that have been building up for years I guess. Maybe I'll find a way to write a happier Loki sometime in the future.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Follow me on tumblr [@keep-on-leggin](https://keep-on-leggin.tumblr.com/)! Thanks for reading!


End file.
